The Sound of The Sky
by SiverSer
Summary: It's half term break and Blaine decides to visit his mother in Westerville. The town is much the same as it's always been... apart from the huge dome like structure that has seemingly sprung up from thin air. Wes is stressed, and there's a precocious newbie is shaking up things at Dalton Academy. (SEBLAINE)
1. In Which Blaine Convinces his Mother

It was with some excitement that Blaine boarded the bus leaving for Westerville on an unseasonably hot day in the middle of half term. He wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead with one wrist and hiked his rucksack a little higher up on his shoulders as he passed the moustachioed bus driver the fare for the journey. It had been very much a shock to the system when he discovered that Lima Ohio had no direct rail network connection to the town where his mother lived (and where he himself had boarded for a good portion of the past two years).

Westerville was a memory that remained bright and vivid and at the forefront of his mind, from the rolling fields where Cooper had taught him riding, to his favourite uptown delicatessen. And to Dalton academy; a bright red bricked school, smaller than average but home to him since he had started boarding there as a freshman. His mother was so used to having him live away from her, as he was also doing currently at his new school; the only issue for her was the long commute. Blaine currently lived in a small semi detached that was close to William Mckinley High; it was smart and had a small neat garden and lots of small neat rooms to match. He had the place all to himself and he liked it that way.

He peered around the rickety old bus for a good seat. It was near to packed, and full of passengers fanning themselves to stave off the heat. One lady smiled at him and offered him the seat next to her. Blaine slid in beside her gratefully. He pondered the long hours that were ahead of him, as he slipped his earbuds on.

When hearing about his hasty decision to reintroduce himself to public education in a big way (and to the challenge of questionable cafeteria lunches and facing small town bullies), his mother had been quite nonplussed, she had gestured towards him, wineglass in hand, threatening to spill her Merlot on the cream rug.

"Darling that's the most ridiculous thing."

Blaine, had shrugged and fought back a grin.

"All I need is a group of theatre kids and a place to stay. And I was thinking..."

Blaine had wondered how to broach the subject

"One of Dad's places- "

Palmira (Call me Pam) Anderson hadn't seemed put out by the mention of her previous husband, and merely raised one dark eyebrow archly.

"That man." She rolled her eyes.

"You can't stay in that place. It probably needs a hell of a good cleaning and lord knows I can't spare Mari and she's the only one who-"

"I can do it" Blaine interjected. "I can do it- I'll have loads of time." He didn't mind cleaning or cooking. The idea of the responsibility warmed him.

His mother had narrowed her eyes at him.

"I despise public schools, you know that Blaine."

"I know mom." Blaine shrugged. "Me too, I had to move from my last one remember?"

"You should have been put into private school straight out of the kindergarten- I /told/ Charles, I said-"

Blaine cleared his throat. He had heard this a million times previously.

Mrs Anderson looked at him mournfully.

"Lima is a dreary back end town, dear, are you sure?"

"I have been there before you know mother. We live in Ohio too, it's not that bad."

Blaine thought about the warm atmosphere of the Lima bean, he thought of free breadsticks, and the soft orange lights of the McKinley auditorium. He thought of Rachel and her inhumanly crazy belts, and Mercedes' pretty runs. He did not think of Kurt, lest his mother see it written all over his face.

His mother took a steadying sip of wine, curls loosening from her haphazard bun and falling in dark tendrils over her face. She looked pretty and fretful in the firelight. Blaine was suddenly very sad.

"Fine" she said at last "Fine darling. I'll – I'll get Marietta to help you pack… and lord knows I rarely get to see you as it is, I just-"

Blaine swallowed and held out his arms awkwardly to her. Pam froze and set down her wine glass before holding her son close and kissing his forehead. They stayed that way for a while, swaying minutely.

"You're a brave kid, Blaine. You've never needed me or anyone. It used to scare me, but it's one of your assets. You can't let anybody know about the arrangements, it's illegal okay?"

"I won't tell."

Blaine burrowed his face into his mother's arms holding her tight. Pam kissed the top of his head and then pulled him away to arm's length.

She laughed and pulled a face. "Why must you insist on damping down your curls Blaine?"

"They're not like yours." Blaine scrunched his nose and scratched his left temple self-consciously.

"Maybe you ought to grow them out then."

Blaine laughed and hugged her.


	2. Westerville Bound

**  
Blaine blinked realising the bus had come to a halt. He had spent an hour going over sheet music for Mr Shuester and completing some of his history assignment for Ms Hagberg. He shoved his tablet into his bag and squinted to see out of the front of the bus. It was still midday and there were around half a dozen passengers still aboard. He watched as the bus driver got up from his seat with effort, grumbling to himself.

"Twenty minute service." He harrumphed. And with that he slowly vacated the bus and made a beeline toward the cafe.

Blaine bought three bacon rolls, some Gatorade and a pack of sour patch kids from the convenience store, stuck it all in his rucksack and piled back onto the bus. He sighed, he tapped his foot and picked at a loose thread of the embroidered red insignia on his bag (it read Ohio state- the slogan blared the fact that he was rooting hard for the Buckeyes). It was going to be a long 5 days trip, and he was going to miss Quinn's birthday party.

But distance be damned, he made time to visit his parent every school break and on occasional weekends if he could.

Blaine spent a sweltering further two hours happily munching on his bacon roll, listening to his iPod and helping old lady Doris (his seat companion) with her crossword puzzle.

"Two Down is Michelle Obama? Are you certain dear?"

Blaine assured her it was.

The fields and rolling hills swept by as the bus steadily made its way further south. He whiled away the hours counting cattle and tractors and more cattle. Ohio really was all farmland. It was quaint but he longed for a glimpse of a coffee shop or a theatre house. He daydreamed briefly about maybe going to study in New York or California one day if things went how he hoped. The bright city lights called everybody in this town. It was cliche, but if you wanted to become a writer, or a thespian, New York was your best shot. He shared his sour patch kids with Doris and her friend Myrtle, and they in return gave him some of their hard candies which he pocketed assuring them he'd eat them later.

The afternoon wore on and clouds gathered by 3pm. Blaine checked his phone. His mother had texted him that she would be out today, and that he should make himself comfortable. Mari would be making dinner for them later. Blaine sighed. His mother was a whirlwind, never stopping on her quest for friends and suitors. That's where Cooper (named after his father Cooper Graham) got it from. Hell thats where Blaine got it from.

His mother had had Cooper when she was barely out of her senior year in college. She had been far too young and her family had been astounded and disappointed that she had flushed her career down the sink by getting pregnant with a diplomat's son. As Italian families go they were very conservative. The pair were young and never married, but Blaine saw Coopers father often at family functions. He was a pale blonde wavy haired man with high cheekbones and known in their house as Uncle Coop (or Daddikins by Blaine's brother Cooper) and they had an odd relationship; more like friends than father and son... Cooper was a bit of a wild card, if you didn't know him well, you'd think he was cool to the bone and difficult to ruffle, but Blaine knew he resented his parents. There were certain things Cooper would get standoffish about.

Their family dynamic was a strange one. Cooper spent a lot of time in LA screenwriting and acting and Blaine barely saw him. His own father had been AWOL for many years. The last time Blaine had seen him, it had been a frosty affair where Palmira and he had finalised their divorce details. Blaine had no doubt that Anderson Sr's presence in his life was going to become as sparse as Coopers fathers presence. They would appear at parties standing awkwardly imbibing champagne with their dates and his mother would feign cheer and introduce them to her new boyfriends, and Blaine and Cooper would fail at making small talk before retiring to play pool in the outhouse.

The bus jolted and Blaine was snapped out of his reverie by Doris tapping him smartly on one shoulder.

"Isn't this your stop dearie? Westerville by that wonderful little delicatessen?"

Blaine jumped to peer out of the window. Outside was Schneider's Bakery and Graeter's ice cream Shop. This was definitely it. Scrambling to retrieve his things, Blaine nodded once at Doris and Myrtle and hopped off the bus, offering the driver a quick "thank you Sir!" Before his sneakers met the hot sun beaten sidewalk.

Blaine had dressed far too warmly for the day. He'd thrown on one of his countless maroon cardigans, over a striped shirt, which was thin enough to keep cool in usually, but unbearable in this heat. He slung it round his waist and tied it there. There was little he could do about his denim jeans or his shoes, but he could seek shelter in an air conditioned shop like when he was little, before walking the couple blocks to his moms house.

And that's exactly what he did. One ice cream sundae later and energised, Blaine was trudging determinedly though the tree lined suburb with an umbrella he used like a makeshift parasol. He thought about how Tina Cohen Chang had brought an actual bamboo hand crafted parasol to school last year, which he had coveted immediately. When she had come back from over summer break, having been away with her adoptive parents to Seoul, she had flashed and twirled a beautiful chinoiserie detailed parasol that went oddly well with her steampunk summer dress, and Blaine had wondered whether he could pull something like that look off. He had taken three separate photos of her and posted them immediately to his photography blog, she had looked so incredible in that outfit. He also took a few with an old vintage camera he had with him. That particular camera and film in his rucksack currently, it's bulk was comforting and reliable as it knocked a little into his side as he walked.

On his way down the street, Blaine passed several dog-walking neighbours he recognised. He saw Ally, who was his moms running buddy and neighbour. She was carrying her cocker spaniel puppy and was sporting the beginnings of a sunburn and a high ponytail.

"Its to hot for their paws, I'm taking her back in" Ally yelled at him from a few feet away. She looked out of breath and harassed. Misty kept trying to lick her ears and squirming in Ally's arms, and she wasn't so small anymore.

"Hi Blaine!"

"Hi! She got huge." Blaine said awed, as Ally approached him. He scratched Misty behind the ears and she tried to jump at him, her ears flapping wildly, before Ally pulled her back.

"She has so much energy these days!" Ally exclaimed as Misty frantically tried to gnaw her way to freedom.

"i'm going to have to walk her in the indoor park. Aren't I? naughty dog."

"Indoor park?" Blaine asked surprised.

Ally pointed behind him with one free hand and Blaine turned to look, squinting out from between the spokes of his umbrella.

In the far distance he could make out the faint blue outline of a vast, concrete, dome like structure swelling over the horizon like a giant tortoise shell. It hadn't been there on his last trip. Blaine widened his eyes; he was amazed he hadn't noticed it yet.. there were sillhouettes of towering cranes putting the finishing touches onto the smooth hexagonal segments of the dome like surface.

"How on earth..."

"Dunno if animals are allowed in there, but i think i can sneak her by." Ally smiled winningly.

Blaine tore his eyes away from the structure, deciding not to ask the million questions that popped into his head.

"How's Cooper by the way?"

They made small talk and parted ways. Blaine had always liked Ally; she had babysat him and Cooper as kids, and she'd always let them assume control over the laptop for Coopers dance tutorials. Usually teenagers would spend time moping in their rooms alone or texting secret girlfriends, but Cooper had been an odd teenager. He'd worn a leather jacket and swept his hair over his eyes dashingly of course, but his pastimes included making ill advised forays into ballet barre and kundalini yoga. He was practically made for L.A. Blaine smiled. He missed his brother very much, despite how overzealous he'd been with tutoring Blaine in the "Arts" as he called them.

Trudging the final stretch to his home, Blaine revelled in the smell of honeysuckle and ylang ylang as he passed the impressive gardens on this thoroughfare. The houses on this street were georgian style and his mothers was too. Blaine looked out on his childhood home, feeling his stomach roiling with fond memories and less fond memories too. The house was sizeable, and painted a delicate shade of periwinkle and white. The gardens grew vine roses, and potted olive trees lined the driveway.

He gave his last bacon roll to a homeless woman who was wheeling a shopcart past the house, and noticed his mother had left the sprinklers on. She did tend to turn the front yard into a swamp more often than necessary. He turned them off. Mari must be out as well.

Using his spare key, Blaine opened the door to the house and walked into the foyer, peering cautiously around. There was no sign of his mother, of course nor the aroma of Mari making dinner. Blaine toed off his sneakers and placed them in the shoe rack. He may as well unpack before heading out. He bounded up the wooden staircase, passing by his mom's room, and Coopers old room, before coming to his own door.

***


	3. In Which Blaine Finds the Perfect Outfit

Blaine's bedroom was similarly decorated to his Lima room; all wooden bookcases, throw pillows, and sloped ceilings. it was much bigger though, and housed a sweet gaming setup and tv that was crowded with multiple stuffed beanbags and ottermans - perfect for when the Warblers came around for game night. He turned the TV on for some much needed background noise as he began to unpack his rucksack.

He pulled out a copy of Dracula, which was given to their class for English and paused to page through it briefly, making sure his bookmark was still in place- Their teacher wasn't expecting a book report just yet, and he had to remember not to tuck Dracula into one of the shelves in the house and then be unable to recover it ever again. Blaine's father had bought him so many books, and the shelves were creaking with the weight of them already.

He had spent much of middle school holed away in his room getting through pages and pages of Charles Dickens, Virginia Woolf, and Tolkien). His dad had noticed one day and come home the next night with a stack of novels and a new bookcase to put them in. His mom, of course had rolled her eyes and taken him to a stuffy cocktail-brunch and taught him how to introduce himself to old ladies who would coo at him and pinch his cheeks, and young men who would ask him about the last basketball game. It was an unorthodox approach , but it had built both his confidence and his love of none fiction. So... his time in actual middle school could go... screw itself.

Blaine glanced sadly around the room. He hadn't packed much into his rucksack since he knew had a fair amount of clothing here, Mari kept a store full of emergency toothbrushes, and toiletries and his iPad would have to suffice in lieu of his laptop. Lastly he pulled out his camera and set it on his chest of drawers to remind himself to get that film roll developed.

Rolling up his sleeves, Blaine decided to utilise his first-day-back-at-home energy to do something productive with his afternoon, and bouncing a little on his heels, he began rifling through his neglected wardrobe. Twenty minutes later he had dismissed several maroon cardigans and jeans before finally finding a striking looking cardigan. It was thin cotton, came down to his mid-thigh and was intermittently striped with dark and light grey. He held its sleeve over one arm to check the fitting. His reflection in the mirror smiled at him all dimpled on one cheek, so he took that as a good sign. Slinging it over one shoulder he went to raid his Cooper's old walk in closet to find the matching gray slacks. He skidded in his sock clad feet down the hall and pulled on a brass doorknob that was three doors down from his own.

Coopers room was the same as always, of course. The door creaked open and Blaine looked around at the walls which were plastered floor to ceiling with Broadway posters and their old playbills. A large vanity mirror took up the far side of the room, and several books and notepads were in disarray on the floor. It was currently in what Cooper liked to call "A state of organised chaos" and Blaine dared not to touch a thing as he walked nimbly towards the walk in closet. what he found in the closet was a jumble of costumes, impressive looking black tuxes, and leather jackets, and- leather pants? Blaine tripped over a pair of bikers boots and a box full of wigs in his effort to find the gray slacks, and cursing he fell on his onto the soft shagpile carpet. He kind of lay there for a bit contemplating his life, before struggling to right himself. He felt his hair curling on him and he pouted, glaring at the offending boots.

The gray pants in question were lying haphazardly half in and half out of a drawer near his right elbow. He tugged it loose, sneezing a little from all the dust. Cooper must have been back within the last few months but must have been living out of his suitcases as nothing in here looked as if it had been recently touched.

The pants needed a rinse, and a quick tumbledry, but they fit him well after he'd sewed up the hem and ironed them flat. He showered, and dressed while looking himself critically in the mirror, pulling a curl down from his coiffed locks before shaking his head and smoothing it back again. drawing in a deep breath, Blaine smartly tapped out a number on his phone.

*Beeeep*

"HEllo?"

"Hi!"

"HEloo Blaine?"

"WEs?"

"-Oh my god is that Blaine?" Jeffs voice boomed excitedly in his ear

"Jeff?! Hi!"

"Blaine how are you babes?" Wes's unctuous voice crackled through the receiver.

"Make him facetime!" Nick's voice joined the medley of warbler voices.

"Blaine imma facetime, wait right there. Don't move" Wes ordered

"I'm right here. Not going anywhere" Blaine laughed lying on his back on his bed (a bed he now noticed his mother had overfilled with throw blankets and cushions.)

His phone buzzed again.

"Blaine hi!"

A big brown pupil filled the screen of his cellphone.  
A blue eye joined it.

Nick and jeff's faces, both handsome and flushed with excitement, appeared and then disappeared as Wes seemingly shoved the pair out of the vicinity of his lap. Blaine beamed at them. They looked well, and looked as if they were in the middle of rehearsing judging by the piles of sheet music around them.

Wes looked stressed but put together. There were signs of fatigue around his eyes and he was clearly still in his school attire, his tie was unkept but his navy blazor was proudly adorned with his council member badge, and a new pin Blaine recognised as the Choir Treasurer pin...

As it was Wes's senior year, Blaine guessed he must have delagated the council presidency to someone who could handle things while he concentrated on his classes. Interesting.

"How are you?" Blaine asked in earnest. He spoke to his old team often, but he'd been a town away and felt removed and that he'd missed so much of their lives.

Wes shrugged and gave a wan smile.

"My parents tend to pile on the pressure during spring break, but this year I believe is a new record even for them." He said dryly.

"Nice cardigan." Jeff interrupted. He had reappeared, top button undone and tieless, his face taking up half the screen and was looking at him consideringly.

"Are stripes a new thing?"

Blaine looked down. He supposed they were.

Jeff leaned in closer and muttered so Wes couldn't hear him.

"No school talk. Me and David told him he needs to relax today. He's wound up like a spring and he's not sleeping well. Every second he's got his nose in a book. He's going to burn out if he's not careful."

Jeff looked solemnly at Blaine.

"Yesterday I baked him cupcakes."

"god" Blaine moaned. "I miss your baking, Jeff." He really did.

Jeff coughed, grinning self consciously.

"Yes- well. The point I was trying to make was that he didn't take a bite."

Blaine raised his eyebrows. Jeff looked significantly at him.

"Yeah. Wes The guy who hoovered up 12 of the congratulatory cupcakes that Janice sent up from the-"

"Jeeefff" a zombie like hand appeared on screen to cuff Jeff around the shoulder.

"Mind giving me my cellular phone? Mind if I talk to Blaine for a change?"

Wes didn't sound well at all. His voice, although carrying the usual signs of sarcasm, was gravelly and every sentence sounded like effort.

"Hey- why don't I come over there?" Blaine chirped. The sentence was out of his mouth before he had time to think it through.

He had been meaning to go to the mall today, and maybe check out the dome-like building. But seeing his old friends seemed like a much better option... it was always the better option, really. But especially preferable when his day would otherwise comprise of window shopping alone and trespassing on a building site.

"I was about to ask." Nick suddenly piped up.

Wes actually grinned, eyes showing signs of a twinkle of enthusiasm.

"We've been working on out new set." Jeff bounced excitedly into frame.

Nick puffed his chest out proudly.

"Oh my god, pleeease come see, Blaine. Pleeeaseeeee?" Jeff batted his blue eyes and pouted.

"I dunnoooo" Blaine smiled, checking his nails teasingly.

"If you come, we'll improvise something cool for your Dalton homecoming." Nick said.

Wes looked a little harried at that statement.

Blaine laughed.

"Consider me convinced."


	4. In Which Blaine Finds a Woodland Mansion

***

The sun beat down on Blaine's back and cast long shadows on the ground as soon as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. Deciding to walk the short distance to Dalton by taking his oft-travelled route as a teenager; one that took advantage of tree lined streets and wooded shortcuts, Blaine was able to avoid much of the heat thanks to the thick canopy of branches above that threw dappled shade over him as he trudged through the gravel beneath its dense canopy. His old school lay beyond Alum creek, around 3km away and nestled amongst willow orchards and black Alder trees.

He felt a sudden and very dissonant sense of deja vu. It was as if he were fifteen again, dressed in new pressed white shirts, foregoing the school cafe to visit his mother for dinner or skipping history class to go to the mall. He hopped over a small turnstile and grinned at Jeff and Wes who were still yammering at him over FaceTime.

"There." Jeff was saying excitedly.

"Behind you, look!"

Blaine saw what Jeff was so excited about immediately.

"That's where our new member lives."

The house was in the middle of nowhere. It was... how to put it, like an ancient old fort that had been renovated by someone ridiculously wealthy. Someone who thought they wanted to live their best, medieval life out in the woods, but do so in 5 star comfort. It even had a turret with a flag flying from its spire. And on top of everything, such a building had certainly not been visible on this route before. Someone must have cleared the trees. It was so extra that Blaine stared a bit and guiltily thought about whether the owners would mind him taking a photograph of the place. It was very picturesque-like something out of a fairytale.

Blaine saw the owner of such a place as a quirky old tycoon. And his son must be, well... equally idiosyncratic. He suddenly felt less enthused about seeing the newly shuffled glee club. They had had members before who hadn't played well in a team environment before. Blaine knew that the warblers had to be seamless and, well the richest newbies were always problematic.

Blaine raised his eyebrows towards the camera on his phone and Jeff guffawed at him.

"Didn't know that Guy of Gisbourne was joining the Warblers" Blaine smirked.

"Oh hush, I think you'll like him."

Blaine somehow doubted it.

"Don't give me that look. He's... got confidence." Wes murmured

Blaine pursed his lips together thoughtfully. He did like a frontman who had good stage presence for sure that's what he strived to achieve. That is if this new guy in question was even the lead. Wait. Blaine paused and the sound of crunching gravel halted with him. Could he be? Blaine was suddenly even more apprehensive to oversee today's warbler practice. He'd left the warblers, but assumed perhaps one of Nick or Jeff could finally fulfil the role they had dreamed of... they had auditioned constantly... or even Thad had a wonderful voice. It seemed that the new guy had strong armed his way in... he must be really good then. Well, he could afford to be good that's for sure.

Blaine rolled his eyes at Wes.

"I like confidence." Blaine said, now breathless from the hike. He ducked his head towards his phone, conceding the point.

"Yeah... he's also our new team captain."

"Wait... What?"

Wes nodded emphatically

Blaine gave it a long thought. The term "captain" was definitely vernacular used to describe the school lacrosse team captain or the football team captain. "Captain of the Warblers" sounded like not only a reshuffle, but a mixing-in of sports terminology, and that was probably only the tip of the iceberg. It hadn't been long since he'd transferred, and there were already so many changes.

"So new kid is the main vocal?"

"Yes..." Jeff stared at him from the screen as if this was obvious.

"And... He's on the council too?"

"Pretty much, he's on the warbler council, but usually Thad is out, and i'm only acting as treasurer this year." Wes spoke offhandedly, but there was something else more unfathomable creeping into his words.

Blaine, who was attempting to both wrestle his way up a ravine and avoid getting his feet wet, gave a sigh of frustration and gave Wes a look.

"hold on."

Blaine tucked his phone into his back pocket; its rectangular form like a flat hot-stone against his behind- like the ones used in the spa retreats that cooper and his mom used to drag him to, Blaine thought grinning ... it was probably getting very warm from his prolonged use too; he knew the feeling. he was feeling an overall sense of discomfort ; both because of the weather and the effort of traversing the wooded route.

Jeff's voice emanated from his pocket.

"Did you just put us in your pocket?"

"Pipe down back there." Blaine chuckled, and hoisted himself up and over the riverbed.

"How is he as lead?" Blaine asked, his voice only betraying a smidgeon of worry.

"who?" Wes asked

"New kid. You're stalling Wes?"

"You mean in comparison to you?" Wes asked, eyes shrewd.

"Well yes. Sure... not that it matters." Blaine sniffed. it did matter a bit.

Wes laughed at him and then paused looking thoughtful.

"he sounds... very musical theatrey. i don't think his stage presence is quite as effervescent as yours. however-"

Wes continued on as Blaine quirked an eyebrow, listening intently.

"i would say he makes up for that in other ways."

it seemed that was all he was getting out of Wes for now, so Blaine dropped the subject.

"Er... guys I may have forgotten exactly how this route goes..."

It had been a while, after all.

***


	5. Mr Feinstein

***

Ten minutes later and looking a little worse for wear, Blaine ascended a hillock behind which he could see his old school emerge.

Dalton Academy looked the same as the last time he'd seen it. The sunlight dazzling off its bay windows and wrought iron gates, it sat nestled in a glade flanked by two weeping willows that were being gently agitated by a mild breeze. Blaine swallowed hard, feeling many feelings he couldn't yet articulate, and slung his rucksack a little higher as he trudged his way up the gravel stone driveway.

There were the odd few students milling around the grounds, chatting and enjoying their free time in various outdoor pursuits; strolling in groups or pairs, or sunbathing shirtless. Most of them were probably boarding students who hadn't gone home for the week: There were picnic blankets and boys in tennis gear, and even some teachers laid out on the grass or napping under an oak tree. his old music teacher Mr Feinstein's was frustratedly flipping over the pages of the book he was reading as the wind fluttered at them.

Some of the schools denizens including said teacher waved at Blaine in recognition. He realised he must stick out a little in this outfit, and he bashfully smiled at Mr Feinstein's startled expression as Blaine walked past him.

"Anderson?" Rupert Feinstein's moustache quivered and his brows crinkled in confusion.

"Sir." Blaine beamed at him.

"Hmph, back are you?" Feinstein gave him a cursory glance. "I hope you're keeping up your cello classes. I've met your wretched Sylvestone woman. She's going to cut arts education at your new school I hear" he grimaced.

"Sue Sylvester? I take private classes. Piano for now but..." Blaine said vaguely

"Well whomever-"

Mr Feinstein was grumpy by nature, but Blaine knew he had a soft centre er, very, very deep down.

His confrontation with his old music teacher was cut short however, by a very blond, and very excitable weight slamming very suddenly into his side and sending him and said interloper toppling to the springy grassy knoll. arms wrapped around his torso and winded him slightly.

"Jeffrey?" Mr Feinstein asked , vaguely scandalised.

Blaine, his vision impaired by the mass of blond hair in his face, craned his neck around to see that his teacher was peering down at them in mild concern.

"Jeff! A little less please" Blaine half laughed and half wheezed

Jeff shoved him playfully.

"Never"

"Good to see you too" Blaine said. Jeff bought out the parental adoration in him like nobody's business.

He gave him a hug to rival the death grip Jeff had administered to him, and smiled at the other boy. Jeff looked to be in great spirits, his mischievous nature more evident than ever in his cool blue stare.

"Sorry Mr. Feinstein" Jeff murmured, giving the music teacher a roguish grin. He bounced to his feet and held out a hand to help Blaine up, which he took gratefully, while dusting grass from his knees.

Blaine looked on fondly as Feinstein berated Jeff about his manners (not an uncommon sight). Jeff answered back, looking ruffled and sheepish.

He was about to leave them to their stand off and maybe go and find Wes in whatever corner of the library he'd slotted himself into, when Jeff turned to look at something behind him. His eyes lit up and he began waving frantically. And leaving Feinstein mid-sentence he grabbed Blaine by the arm and steered him hurriedly towards the arched glass doors off the school driveway.

"Jeffrey! mishandling your friends!" Feinstein shouted exasperatedly

"Sorry Mr Feinstein!" Jeff waved at him,

"C'mon"

They slowed to a halt near the glass windows of the east building.

A brunet head peaked out from one of the windows, it was Nick, looking slightly nervous, his dark brown bangs falling into his eyes.

"Hi Blaine, um we were about to start, but Jeff disappeared."

"Blaine you have /got/ to see what Nicks planned." Jeff was already halfway through the window, and wrestling with the drapes to get in. Blaine made as if to follow him in, but Nick held him back with one hand.

Nick looked at him hesitantly and asked:

"Do you mind coming in through the foyer? It's kind of a surprise"

"Of course," Blaine said, beset with curiosity now. He was all for a good lead in.

"I'll be right in." Blaine assured NIck, with a smile and a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder. He looked like he needed it. Nick nodded once and looked relieved. There was the slight chance he could be waylaid on his way to the choir room of course, but he'd make it timely.

Jeff hopped back through the drapes impatiently , and Nick's head disappeared too. There were sounds of hushed whispers from inside the choir room, and Blaine resisting the urge to peek inside instead turned decisively and walked to the large guilded double doors atop a short flight of tiled steps that was the entrance to the school.

The inside of the foyer was blissfully cool and deserted. Blaine traced the tile of the walls with one hand, and looked around, trying to gauge any changes. The cavernous entrance hall had arched ceiling and navy wall panels the usual framed art work, and the occasional statuette housed within insets along the walls. His feet echoed on the floor as he made his way to the north east side and to the Warblers practice room. He drifted feeling as if he were gliding rather than walking: past shafts of light and dust motes, suspended in time.

The hum of modulated harmonies drifted through the air towards him like the scent of a pie cooling on a windowsill, getting stronger as he drew closer. Excitement pricked at the back of his neck and his stomach knotted a little.

They sounded great. On top form. Seamless. One entity. What was this song? Blaine scratched at his palm in frustration.

He threw open the maple oak double doors, and sound suddenly hit him from all sides.


	6. Sebastian's Day

Sebastian awoke with a jolt, the obtrusive sunlight offending his tentatively half-open green eyes. Groaning, he turned over and buried himself under his pillow, trying to recall the last vestiges of sleep, and the wonderful dream he had been having. It wasn't as though he had to be anywhere in a hurry. His parents were likely still at breakfast, and his sister was probably with aunt Esther in the library (as she had been every morning this week).

He rolled himself out of bed, stumbling slightly over his own legs, hair sticking up in every direction. The morning chill caused him to shudder, goosebumps pricking up across his bare torso, Sebastian surveyed his room.

He'd been going for a Mediterranean theme, to remind him of his last vacation to Costa Del Sol. The pale colours and translucent drapes were quite sexy and the beachy decor quite soothing and very him, however... Sebastian turned his head to face the window. The prospect from his window removed the feeling, somewhat. Outside was an extremely dense canopy of trees, which thankfully, the room peaked above, to provide plenty of light, but looking outside was like peering out at a sea of green with nary a beachgoer in sight.

It wasn't only outside, but inside too that was overrun with plantlife. His sister, was unusually interested in botany compared to the average twelve year old, and had filled his room with an array of exotic houseplants, and Sebastian could refuse a lot of things, but never her. And therein lay the problem. He had agreed to keep a striking looking indoor palm leaf tree- it had added to his room aesthetic. He had ended up housing various wall climbers, several potted cacti, and a bookcase full of glass terrariums. He picked a few fallen leaves off his slippers, disgruntled at the state of his life.

Izzie's own room was far worse though. Sebastian snorted, brushing aside vines that had grown over the doors of his wardrobe. It was just lucky that nobody in this family had allergies. He stretched and dressed moodily for breakfast.

When he arrived downstairs, his mom and dad were placidly discussing more building renovations over coffee and toast. Sebastian helped himself to a croissant and ignored them.

Sebastian's father was as eccentric as they came, Sebastian was very aware of that detail. Why else would he move way out here into a forest in Ohio removed from all of civilisation? Sebastian hoped it was eccentricity and not anything untoward... like cannibalism. No. His father was a vegan so he could rule that one out.

His dad looked at him strangely as if he had heard his thoughts.

"Anything planned today, kiddo?" Mr. Smythe asked, beaming at him.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and shoved a piece of toast crust into his mouth.

"Warbler rehearsals." He said, chewing thickly. He checked the time on his phone.

"At 1500"

His fathers smile, which had fallen a fraction at the news of a "choirboys anonymous meeting" as he called them, snapped back in place immediately.

"Perfect!" He looked eagerly towards his wife.

"Honey, that's hours from now." His Mother chided from behind a newspaper.

"Help your father this morning, and then he can give you a ride to your school. Why those boys don't have down time during the holidays... I will never fathom."

Sebastian snorted into his disgustingly un-irished coffee and shrugged.

"Sure... whatever." He stretched luxuriously, not at all bothered by this turn of events. His mother, busily engrossed in The Westerville Post, and his father in the middle of washing dishes now, didn't notice the chinking sound of a small congac bottle as Sebastian knocked it deftly from a nearby shelf into his sleeve as he stretched.

If he was going to be helping his dad and Izzie, he'd need something to numb the boredom.

Sebastian studied his parents. They were a picture of domestic bliss. They were so comfortable with each other. They worked together like clockwork and had built their empire here from scratch. Sebastian was not blind to the comfort he and his sister enjoyed and he didn't plan to take that for granted. Sebastian almost wanted what they had. The only thing was that clocks were so damn predictable.

Sebastian tossed and caught an apple on his way out of the kitchen.

Xxx

Sebastian strode past the threshold of Dalton Academy later that day, dressed impeccably in his school uniform. The student body parted usually before him to let him through, but the school populous was decimated this week. The only remnants were the kids who came here from abroad or seniors cramming for the mock exam. He found it weird how some of the teachers stayed over break, didn't they have lives outside of this place?

Nick was spewing pastry flakes next to him, as he stuffed a haphazard lunch down his neck as the group of warblers swarmed him and ushered him down to the choir room. Sebastian brushed crumbs from his blazer lapels, pinning Nick with a death glare. Nick merely shrugged and grinned at him.


End file.
